Count of Los Santos
by SaiyatonianSage
Summary: It's our instinct to catch what's getting away, and to run from what's chasing us. Here innocence dies, and private wars run uninterrupted. Yet even at these hours, the rich and poor need their sleep. At dusk, Hell stokes its flames once again; celebrities stay in their multi-million-dollar safehouses and the gangbangers preserve their legacies with their own blood. OC/harem


**Disclaimer: I do not own Grand Theft Auto. All rights belong to their respective owners. The only thing I own is this story and my OC.**

" **Speaking"**

' **Thoughts'**

 **-Count of Los Santos-**

 **It's our instinct to catch what's getting away, and to run from what's chasing us.**

Reveling in the sweet tender roar of the engine of his custom X80 Proto, the Xenon headlights illuminated the sign of the upcoming city: Los Santos.

Here innocence dies, and private wars run uninterrupted.

Yet even at these hours, the rich and poor need their sleep. At dusk, Hell stokes its flames once again; celebrities stay in their multi-million-dollar safehouses and the gangbangers preserve their legacies with their own blood.

The true Sin City.

Fortunately, tonight was the quietest of nights. The experimental hypercar hared past the leisurely civilian vehicles, angry honks muted from having almost been knocked over as the young man viewed from the mirror with a sly grin.

He had achieved the American Dream; money, prestige, respect, clothing himself in pride and passion, Royce Caspar worked hard to earn his place in the social ladder. Now he was going to play even harder.

 _ **He came from somewhere back in her long ago**_

 _ **The sentimental fool don't see**_

 _ **Tryin' hard to recreate**_

 _ **What had yet to be created once in her life**_

" _She musters a smile for his nostalgic tale,_ " Singing along with the rhythm and beat, reminiscing back to when his parents played this song at full blast, Royce surrendered himself back to his child-self. " _Never coming near what he wanted to say. Only to realize. It never really was!_ "

 _ **She had a place in his life**_

 _ **He never made her think twice**_

 _ **As he rises to her apology**_

 _ **Anybody else would surely know**_

 _ **He's watching her go**_

" _But what a fool believes he sees! No wise man has the power to reason away. What seems to be is always better than nothing. And nothing at all keeps sending him…_ "

Lost to a time of innocence and joy, a simple life of love and endearment. Simple times. He loved this song; they loved this song. His parents, good people. He knew that. They taught him how to be good, he made that promise to them.

Now he arrived in Hell.

How far he was willing to fall to right those sins would mean everything to him. To them.

" _Somewhere back in her long ago. Where he can still believe there's a place in her life. Someday, somewhere, she will return,_ " the approaching dusk brought the wealthy scion from his musings, alerting him to the faint flashes of red and blue. Having entered the city limits already, Royce ignored the lights and simply lift his foot from the gas pedal. With a sharp brisk turn of the steering wheel, the hypercar drifted seamlessly around a pair of halted cars, ignoring the angered noises from its drivers and passengers.

The sun had started to rise surprisingly quickly over the distant mountains, engulfing the X80 in its celestial glory. A new dawn, a new day, a new life. The whining sirens started to get louder, and more annoying, however the wealthy young man heard the Los Santos cops were incompetent at best, no worries to bother him. Besides he was almost at his new home, so he focused back onto the rising sun. Warm, he noted, but with a lack of humidity that made Los Santos an ideal hotspot for indulgences if one's pockets were deep enough.

"3671 Whispymound Drive," Royce stated to his dashboard, the GPS system directing his command to his desired location. Glancing towards the touchscreen he was only less than 10, maybe 15 minutes from his new home. He had been on the road almost the entire night, the rapid blinking of his eyes detailing of this little fact. Nor had he eaten anything either. "Don't know why I was in such a rush," Royce muttered, slowing down as he approached a red light. He looked around the local venue, hoping for some place to be open. "Right… nobody's open yet. Damn it."

And he hadn't officially moved into his new place yet, so no food there either.

"Doesn't matter, it won't be long before the veggie voodoos come crawling from-" His dashboard alerted him of an incoming call, partially surprised as to the caller wasn't supposed to contact him until later. "Didn't expect you to be an early riser," Royce commented nonchalantly, continuing his drive once the light changed back to green.

" _C'mon Royce, sleep is for the weak and those who don't make the big bucks,_ " the caller chuckled back. " _Besides I wanted to make sure you made it to Los Santos in one piece, considering you could've flown here in a quarter of the time._ "

"Is that the friend side talking or the rival checking out the competition?" Royce grinned cheekily.

" _All's fair in love and war. Besides you're only a handful of people who make my life worth living._ "

"Phrasing is a concept you might have to work on, I'm half-expecting fireworks saying, 'Will you marry me?' in the sky."

The caller laughed mockingly, bringing a genuine smile to Royce's lips. " _Still a charming ass even to this day huh? Anyway, I was hoping once you settled in at your place, I could take you around town, show you the sights. You know tacky touristy crap that you adore._ "

Royce tilted his head, eyebrows arched while his eyes partially drooped. "Sounds good. You want to meet at my place or you wanna meet somewhere?"

" _I'll text you, 'sides I got hands to shake and money to make rain but there's been buzz about your arrival._ "

"A buzz that's been festering for a few years now," Royce said, glancing at the rearview mirror. "I actually don't know how to feel about this, this is new to me."

" _Trust me you'll hate the fame and glory and money that comes with becoming one of the biggest tech gurus in the New Age,_ " the caller quipped. Royce could hear the self-satisfaction gleaming in his voice, making the scion roll his eyes. " _I'm happy for you though, I really am. Friends are hard to come by, glad you're one of mine._ "

"We'll see if you still feel that way after I knock off iFruit's golden boy from his throne and take the crown for myself," Royce razzed gleefully. Hearing the tired sigh, Royce shook his head lightly. "Alright I'll knock it off. But it's kinda weird having my own tech company is all, although kinda exciting too."

" _Until everyone wants everything from you including your soul, then you'll have to listen to the love and hate, and constant demands for new innovations while they want the same old as before. It's a bit of a mess but the fans can mean well I guess._ "

"I've never been one to disappoint," Royce asserted.

" _Then we'll have fun setting the world ablaze with our little bromance rivalry and live the American Dream._ "

"I'm at the new place now, I'll see you later then," Royce said, slowing down into his driveway and noticing another car in his space.

" _See you soon._ "

Stepping out of his X80 Royce observed the classic black 1973 Classique Stallion; smooth curves, crafted from pure American hands, she was a rare beauty that told of a once proud dream. He could see why his father took such loving care of her, why he left her in his care now.

"You the owner here?" asked the Latino car transporter, looking at the rich scion with tired eyes.

"Yeah, just came into town just this morning," Royce explained, shaking hands with the car transporter. "Thanks for taking care of this, means a lot to me."

The transporter said nothing, just nodding nonchalantly.

"Right right. How much do I owe you?" inquired Royce.

"$850," the transporter said forwardly, wanting to get this over and continue on with his day. Pulling out his wallet Royce counted through the small stack of bills.

"Should be two grand here," Royce offered, handing the small stack to the transporter. "Keep the difference between what I owe, I think that should be at least a grand there."

Startled by such a generous offer, the transporter stared blankly at the wad of cash in his hands, looking between that and the young man before him. "N-No I can't-"

"Consider it a tip, this car means a lot to me and I want to thank _you_ for not damaging it." Seeing the Latino man's hands shaking, Royce clasp his hand onto the other man's shoulders reassuringly. "It's not a trick. I've seen that look in your eyes before, I've been there and look at here I am now. That," Royce pointed towards the cash. "is a little reminder not to give up and that it'll be worth it in the end."

"Thank you," the man said softly, rolling the cash into a roll and tucking it in his pocket. "If there's anything I can do-"

"Just have a great day," Royce said, walking past the car transporter before turning around. "What's your name, I forgot to ask."

"Diego," the Latino man said.

Nodding subtly, Royce smiled before waving him goodbye. It was the least he could do, he knew that path that most walked: working relentlessly and to the bone, to see your life wither away. And all for what?

Nothing.

He was taught that people were good but could be pushed to do desperate things to protect themselves. However, there were those that willingly chose a dark path because they tried to compensate for loss, and they enjoyed it.

That damn thin line was always too transparent to recognize sometimes.

As Royce traced his fingers across the hood of the Stallion, reminiscing of his dad's laughter as he worked endlessly on her. Classic 80's music being played in the background as his dad taught him how to fix a car, how to live your life and how to treat women. Royce smirked as he could see his dad looking over his shoulder to make sure his mom wasn't nearby, seeing that slick grin cross his lips.

"Hopefully I kept my promise to you," Royce contemplated aloud, his amber eyes glossing in spite of his growing guilt. "I did as you told me to do. I should be happy, I think any parent would be after all I've accomplished."

As the old saying goes 'Money can't buy happiness'. Maybe to an extent that's true, but money saves a lot of trouble and hassle that most people would be willing to trade said happiness for. And he tried to keep his hands clean for as long as he could, which Royce believed he had to the best of his abilities. Though he wouldn't call himself Robin Hood or the like, but he knew he was a good man.

Glancing behind him to see Diego entering his truck and driving off, the rich scion entered his new mansion and observed the sparse furniture that decorated his living room. Casually taking in the new sight, Royce ventured to the open balcony and leaned on the railing. Open view of Vinewood Hills, below his eyes laid an infinity pool, and the dawn of something truly special awaited this Sin City.

What waited for him after he was done…

Live his life. That's all he could do.

Only the pesky bug of revenge gnawed at the back of his mind his entire life. Stripped of any self-worth, seeing his parents struggle to recovery any shred of respect just to provide their son with shelter and food, just because of one simple bank robbery.

 _Brad Snider_

 _Trevor Phillips_

 _Michael Townley_

One simple _damn_ robbery _robbed_ him of _everything_ he had! It wasn't much, his parents weren't all that wealthy, but fate seemed to place this obstacle in front of him, granting him the opportunity to relieve him of his parent's fears.

He couldn't sleep now. His guilt, his anger, couldn't let him… couldn't accept… not until it was done. Until he was freed of his demons. If… he ever could be free of it.

Reaching for his phone, the _Cyborg Solaria_ , the new staple of smartphones that would revolutionize the tech scene, Royce scrolled through his contacts. Having bought out iFruit's main competition, Drone, a few years back was one of the biggest upsets, considering he was at 18 years old if he recalled correctly. Many had their doubts of what a relative teenager could have to offer, not to mention all the bureaucracy he had to endure from all those old money lackeys trying to keep their monopolies in their pockets.

He, however, had one friend who stuck by his side: Steve Craft- iFruit's own golden boy.

And this phone would be unlike anything the world had seen- luxury and suaveness covered with exquisite gold and fine leather combined with the imperturbable software and hardware of any military tech worth their salt. A quality phone at the price that would seem suicidal given the cost to make it. Ordinarily a phone of this caliber was valued at 20 thousand dollars, he remembered the outrage he received once he announced to his board of the selling price- $550.

However, Royce Caspar saw what those materialistic fools couldn't. If a quality product such as this was sold at that price, naturally there would be tremendous doubt of its inherent worth, but once it caught on the entire Cyborg company would explode, possibly even more than iFruit itself, becoming the new tech empire of the free world.

Spend money to make money.

Royce smiled faintly as he paused, thinking back to his earlier conversation with his longtime friend. All of this because of one poor incident in his youth. The human spirit could be a fun damning thing, couldn't it?

Twirling the Solaria in his hand, Royce put the phone back in his pocket. He had a week to himself before the unveiling of his new company and phone, perhaps he should enjoy himself. His parents wouldn't want him to be overworked. He could afford time now, given how much he had in his piggybank.

"Besides I don't wanna stay cooped in the house," Royce noted, pushing himself away from the railing. "I can settle in later, I've been stuck in that car for hours. Be nice to stretch my legs a little bit." Heading back to the driveway, he opened the gull-wing door on the X80 passenger's side and retrieved a bag of clothes he took with him.

Knowing Vespucci Beach was a few minutes from here, Royce peered through his bag to find some proper attire. Luckily, he packed a stylish white beach tunic and matching white linen pants. Grabbing the half-million-dollar Chopard sunglasses next to the bag, Royce reentered his new house to get changed.

 **-Count of Los Santos-**

 **Vespucci Beach**

 _ **Don't you look back on a big old world**_

 _ **Crying out tomorrow**_

 _ **Don't you look down like the heroes say**_

 _ **Come tell me about it**_

 _ **Take me to the streets where the bonfires burn**_

The crashing thunder of her beautiful waves highlighted the ethereal mysticism of the 80's synthesizer of Simple Minds' _All the Things She Said_ ; unfortunately, it was an underrated song, as many songs tended to be from the 80's. He thought so anyway. Soaking up the sun's rays laying on his back on top the hood of his father's car, Royce simply stared longingly at the crystal sky. It was nice here, he admitted, but it was lonely. Or rather he had too much free time on his hands.

He tried to not linger on the past. He tried to see the blessings of all that set him on this path. He was gifted from a young age, not truly special like a prodigy; more akin to being keen and shrewd perhaps. Then again, an eighteen-year-old didn't have the money to buy out a global company and make it his own. Nor would an ordinary person be friends with a tech guru of the most prestigious tech company on Earth. Nor been through the hells of war, survived, and come back with many dark secrets.

No, not ordinary at all.

These thoughts brought a faint smile curling to his lips. He had waited a lifetime for this moment, a moment that would bring him tranquility and rest. Regain a small piece that was stolen from his soul- his parents' redemption. Only then would the world be restored.

"C'mon baby I know y'all can hear me talking to you," the demanding tone of a man close by partially caught the scion's attention, lazily rolling his head to the left catching a muscular African-American lifeguard standing over a group of three women; one Latina, one white and one black, fine young girls too around his own age. Royce furrowed his brow as he studied the situation, nothing was wrong from what he could tell, so he ventured to reason that the lifeguard was trying to flirt with them.

Doing a bad job at it too, Royce noticed. Demanding something from a woman never pandered to much success, unless that's what she's into. But still, most guys like that never got the hint, which would lead into what he worried next.

"Listen take a hint and leave us the hell alone," the Latina woman stated, clearly irritated by this guy's presence. Apparently one day at the beach with her girlfriends was too much to ask without some horny, although good-looking, guy pestering them.

"At least answer me when a man talks to you," the lifeguard spat, his nose twitching in seemingly justified anger.

"And what kind of man do you think we settle for?" the white girl spoke up blatantly, not even bothering to look at the muscular lifeguard.

"The fuck you say?! I don't need no backsass from a couple of bitches when I'm giving you my attention!" shouted the lifeguard, ready to take a step forward towards the disrespectful-

"Don't you say another fucking word!" shouted the black girl vehemently, standing almost immediately to challenge the much larger guard. "'Wanna be Niggas' like you are the reason why-"

"Shut yo tramp ass up bitch!" Having had enough of these bitches' disrespect for the simple fucking fact of trying to get their numbers, the lifeguard reeled his hand back instinctively to put this wannabe slut in her place.

"Sorry I'm late!" yelled a newcomer, jogging to a halt before sliding next to the black woman. "You know I searched this whole damn beach looking for y'all crazy bitches for like, ever!" As the newcomer cupped the black girl's cheek in his hand and gave it a loving peck, he turned to address the lifeguard. His eyes grazed down the muscular form of the fairly taller black man in front of him, spotting the various tattoos on his body. He looked towards the black girl knowingly. "Girl I know you have a thing for breaking down big feisty men every chance you get, but you gotta stop it. Find yourself a decent man or somethin'."

" The fuck are you?" the lifeguard demanded, looking at the new guy degradingly.

"Right! Sorry, name's Royce," Holding out his hand for a shake, the lifeguard looked down at the hand offered to him then back to the new guy. Slow seconds stretched as the lifeguard studied the cheesy-ass smile on this motherfucker's face.

"You think I'm a dense nigga," the lifeguard accused forwardly, taking a first step towards the group. Pointing towards the Stallion in the distance, the lifeguard continued. "You've been parked over there for an hour now, so I'm gonna try and be nice and let yo skinny white ass outta here with a warning."

Royce looked behind him to the aforementioned car. "I'm not allowed to park on the beach itself?"

"Leave. Now."

"You'll leave these girls alone if I do?" Royce asked. The two other girls on the ground stood up during the conversation, glancing towards the new guy who seemingly came to their rescue.

The lifeguard finally closed the distance from Royce and himself, encapsulating the 5 inches, nearly 100lbs difference between the two. "Sounds like you better back that threat up you smacking _boy_."

A deep shallow breath escaped Royce, knowing the next few seconds would bring. He didn't want to do this now of all places, since people were now starting to enter the beach. However, he saw what was about to happen before he intervened, odds were it wouldn't change when he left. Guiding the three girls behind him away with his right arm, pushing them to the side, Royce took a step back.

Striking first with a strong, whipped jab directly at the lifeguard's nose, Royce noticed a trickle of blood running down a second later. "Least you don't hit like a complete bitch," the lifeguard mocked, wiping the trail of blood that fell to his top lip.

Not saying anything Royce took his Chopard sunglasses off, handing them to one of the girls steadily keeping his gaze on his challenger. "Didn't want to end this in one punch," Royce quipped, rolling his right fist readily. "Seems you're not the only one who's into hitting bitches."

With a tremendous shout the lifeguard struck with a wild haymaker, however it was slow as it would be powerful, leaving Royce enough time to lean casually back feeling the wind behind his strength.

'Power hitter,' Royce reflected. 'He'll be slow but be able to take one hell of a beating. At least from an ordinary fighter.'

If he was any other man, a fight against this Goliath would've been suicide.

"Hey Xavier, the fuck's going on?!" Another yellow Lifeguard SVU swerved next to the one that was parked near the girl's hangout, and a small band of four other lifeguards shot out like a bat outta hell. They stormed towards their fellow lifeguard, ascertaining the situation and asserting their growing dominance. Royce noted the change of odds presented to him now; two white lifeguards, one Asian, and one Latino- all well-built and physically capable.

"I was just trying to talk to these fine bitches over there, trying to show them the pleasures of being with a REAL MAN when they start trippin' an' shit."

"Bullshit!" cried the Latina, attempting to march over to the accused lifeguard. "This dense motherfucker was tryin' to molest us until he came in," Pointing over to Royce, the Latina glared fiercely at Xavier then tried to continue before Royce turned to face her, a solemn stare letting her know not to say anymore. For the moment.

"Shit I hope you planned on sharing them hoes," the Asian lifeguard laughed rather loudly, seemingly not caring of the impending crowd of tourists on their way.

"Don't I always deliver for my boys?" Xavier joined in as did the other lifeguards. Frowning darkly at the crude remarks towards the women, Royce glanced behind him; they were angry, righteously so, focused solely on their dickish tormentor and his cronies.

This had gone on lone enough now. Fortunately, his time spent overseas fighting in wars for his country and private wars across the world molded him into the most complete fighter in the world.

With a surprising burst of speed, Royce dashed towards Xavier, leaping headfirst into the imposing challenger, and nearly cracked the lifeguard's skull in two. The Goliath stumbled weakly and almost immediately fell onto the sand, the shocked gasps from the women were muted from the crashing waves and clashing skulls. A bleeding trail flowed down Xavier's forehead, his dazed eyes foretelling his regrets.

"Take a step towards me and you'll end up worse than him," Royce growled, amber orbs smoldering with the primal instinct of the true Alpha male. "Take him and leave this beach, you don't deserve to call yourselves men for doing something so shameless." Scowling ferociously Royce finally relented and focused his sights on the women.

"You… didn't kill him, right?" the white girl asked concernedly. She wanted the son of a bitch punished, but not… dead.

Royce shook his head. "He's not worth killing over. Stripped of his manhood," he peered over his shoulder. "Definitely. Are you ok?" Amber eyes took a moment to appreciate the beauties he had saved, they really were gorgeous and blessed with natural gifts. Granted he had seen many, many, many beautiful women from many different walks of life around the world.

"Yeah," the blonde drawled, her ocean blue orbs soaking in the dashing rogue of a man in front of her. "Better now… that you're here." He was quite handsome, tall but not too tall, lean and muscular from what she could tell from his beach tunic, and his charming rogue smile.

She was grateful to any and all gods that existed that she was single. Not that it would matter if she was or wasn't, a fact that she wasn't ashamed of… right now. Royce smirked, watching the blonde mindlessly biting her bottom lip continuing to stare at him imploringly, which caused the young man to address the other girls.

Yet he caught a glimpse of fear in the blonde's eyes, the sudden dilation of something unexpected alerted him just last second.

A demanding hand grasped his right shoulder, attempting to force Royce to face another unfortunate fool; instinctively the scion wrapped his right arm around the intruding appendage and with his left-hand strike with an open palm. A sickening crack alerted to a broken nose gushing blood and a desperate cry of pain from the first white lifeguard before falling on his back roughly.

Burning amber eyes flared dangerously at the remaining lifeguards, anger boiling to rage as Royce stormed towards the walking dead men. "I'll make you regret ever living when I'm done with you!" Primal instinct tempered with sentience was what made a man the most dangerous animal, the Apex Predator, on the planet; the single-minded focus of survival, of dominating your fellow man and creature in their rightful place because of adaption and willingness to push the evolutionary chain just a hair further.

Strikes and punches that could easily shatter bone were unleashed mercilessly upon what should have been a rather civilized misunderstanding, unfortunately left a broken mess on the now blood-soaked sands.

His heart pounded ferociously, his breathing erratic. His mind buzzed from the short burst of adrenaline, staring downward at his primal victory. An Alpha male asserting his dominance…

"I'm sorry," mumbled Royce afterwards, not looking at the women. The sentient half crawled back to his psyche, knowing that he shouldn't have acted in this manner. But he had to. Otherwise…

A soft hand reached out, hesitantly, then rested on his shoulder. As his head lifted to look forward, noticing the group of tourists and civilians staring bewildered at the carnage wrought upon the group by one man, Royce slowly turned to face the white girl.

"C'mon, we should go before the LSPD actually decide to do their jobs for once," she implored, her hand lowering to grasp his muscular bicep. Glancing back to the onlooking group of people, Royce decided it was the best way to go for now.

 **-Count of Los Santos-**

"At least our hero is taking care of himself," the black girl stated, eyeing the decor of Royce's mansion.

The scion chuckled. "I just got into town just this morning, haven't had time to break in the ol' homestead yet."

"I ain't insulting or nothing, just making conversation."

"I know," Royce continued, looking around the open space of his house. Stretching his arms, feeling the small crackles popping, the scion addressed the three lovely ladies. "You probably have some questions about what happened down at the beach-"

"Look beau, as far as I know I just got my fine black ass saved by some equally fine man," the black girl said. "It may have been a bit much but seeing what those perverts were about to pull-" Wrapping her arms around Royce's neck, she embraced him shamelessly her lips on his and a deep throaty moan elicited from the rich scion as her nails trailed the back of his neck. "-Thank you."

"Don't hog this fine white man all to yourself _puta_ ," the Latina reprimanded, immediately storming over to the lovers, throwing herself into the mix.

"Fuck you too bitch!" the black girl laughed, taking a small break from her makeout session. "I've always wanted to be a white man's bitch!"

Royce squinted his eyes at the… racial… compliments? Whatever, he figured, the suggestive comments were enough to swell his male pride. Wrapping his arms around each of the girl's waist, Royce pulled them closer to himself feeling their full breasts pressed on him. He was no stranger to the beauty of the female form.

Both of the girl's giggled at the handsome man's actions, leaning closely to engage in an erotic three-way makeout. A genuine test of sensual skill for both the man and woman of their worth; the blonde watched the session with burning lust in her panties and her ocean blue eyes taking in this beautiful sight of a true man. Her girlfriends' moans from Royce's hands caressing their lovely, beautiful fat asses made the blonde finally join in, pushing herself in the middle between them.

"Surprised it took you that long," Royce quipped, his damn charming little smirk intensifying the blonde's desire. Without saying anything the blonde kissed him squarely, her tongue forcing itself into his mouth. He pulled away to finally get some air, inhaling deeply and laughing dryly. "Never figured I'd die from a four-way makeout session, out of all the things I've been through across the world."

"You've been all over the world?" the Latina asked, her fingers teasing the fabric of his beach tunic feeling the sculpted muscle underneath.

"Hm, a cultured white man… a black girl's dream come true," the black girl purred, her eyes half-lidded from her apparent lust.

"Hold on, hold on," chuckled Royce, trying to hold back these feisty young ladies. "A gentleman should at least know the names of the young, beautiful ladies he's with."

"Sarena," the black girl cooed, her hand tracing across his neck.

"Isabella," the Latina wooed, kissing his cheek then nipping on his earlobe.

"Cass," the blonde purred, pecking him a gentle kiss.

"And with the introductions out of the way," Sarena growled, gripping her hands on Royce's shirt. "We can get back to the fun!" Ripping his shirt apart, a well-sculpted physique of an Olympian god was shown to their pleasure. Nails trailed teasingly on his skin, devilish lustful ideas from each of the girls stormed on how this fine, dreamy man was going to have his way with them.

Without a word, Cass got on her knees and with slight shaking of her hands pulled his pants down. A blunt smack of his cock slapped her boldly on her chin, partially making her jump. "Christ!" she shouted, a faint blush as Royce's cock now came to her view. Thick, delicious veins pulsated under the skin, the cock itself starting to thicken and grow to its full monstrous length. Her ocean orbs widened as she was forced to lean back so the monster cock wouldn't poke her in the eyes or anything like that.

"I must be blind as hell to not see a fat cock like that hiding in plain view," Sarena gasped, mindlessly trailing her nails across his broad six pack.

"It's usually my eyes that bewitch most women," cracked Royce, pulling his black lover into a loving kiss.

Isabella, who silently was observing the scion, rested her head on his shoulder with content. "Thank you, again, for helping us back there. You don't see a lot of nice guys like you around here. Just some self-righteous pricks who think they can snap their fingers and all the bitches will fall to their knees whenever they want."

As he listened to what the Latina was saying, continuing to focus on Cass' reaction to his cock, Royce nodded that he was paying attention. He felt Isabella's hand cup under his chin, making him look at her when she kissed him too, biting his bottom lip teasingly and lovingly. Her hot breath tickled his face, the breath of exhilaration of what was about to happen next; amber eyes glossed daringly when he witnessed the Latina and Sarena kneeling before him too, joining their fellow girlfriend as they marveled at the gregariousness of his imposing, thick 12-inch cock.

Each of the girl's licked her lips in preparation, silently debating and agreeing amongst themselves on where they should start pleasuring their hero.

 **-Count of Los Santos-**

A thin sheet of sweat glossed across his muscular frame, low heavy grunts rumbled in his throat as his cock pistoned feverishly in his black lover's tight cunt. Hours upon hours of senseless, animalistic fucking had kept the lovers lost in their own world of primal desires. His thick heavy balls had showered in a glorious display of his seed on Cass and Isabella; the blonde having laid on her stomach over the couch, her pussy leaking of his seed, and the Latina laying on her back by his feet with her face coated in his divine essence.

Faint red streaks trailed up, down and across his backside, Sarena's mews and coos in devotion to her ivory god gave to harsh heavy pants; his ebony queen cried for his touch, his essence, his presence, she wanted to surrender into his embrace.

A tired, weary smile graced her lips, a half-lidded gaze alerted Royce of her next desire. Easing his feverish thrusts, allowing Sarena to plant her feet onto the floor, his ebony queen finally realized how weak kneed he made her; allowing a shaky laugh to escape her, she leaned on him for support.

Against her earlier comments, Sarena's glassy eyes told a quiet story of love, acceptance, and being trapped. Royce's amber gaze smoldered tenderly, not having known her for very long, he knew what she desired.

He couldn't give it to her.

Kissing his muscular peck, Sarena allowed herself to delve into her darkest fantasies; Tasting his naked flesh on her tongue, savoring the flavor of his skin, her hands massaging every beautiful sculpted inch of his body-

Royce placidly grasped her hands in his, his thumbs caressing the back of her hands tenderly. Amber eyes carefully studied her face, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

"I'm sorry," Sarena muttered, scoffing at herself. "I'm taking advantage of you from my own insecurities and fetishing your good nature."

"Had to admit it was kinda weird when you said all that about me," Royce admitted, cocking his head amusingly. "Though it was kinda sexy too… forcing me into an odd situation."

Bopping Royce on his nose, giggling followed by a playful snort, the young woman stared imploringly into the smoldering amber abyss. "Christ you can make a woman feel like a goddess…"

A chivalrous smirk flashed on Royce's lips, pecking Sarena chastely. "I'm also good company too."

"I have no doubt," flirted Sarena. Looking back to where her girlfriends were splayed about on the couch, she looked expectedly at the rich scion.

"It's fine, doubt an earthquake would wake them up."

Calm silence enveloped in the room, the lovers simply looking at each other; better things left unsaid honestly, words would be pointless they knew.

Inspecting the scion once more, Sarena's mind began to wonder back to the scene at the beach. "I'm probably prying in things left unknown, but…" she was growing unease at what she was going to say, if it was true what she thought.

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to," Royce boldly declared, bright amber darkening quickly. The abrupt change in his demeanor unnerved Sarena greatly, frozen temporarily unable to grasp the change. Upon seeing her scared expression Royce eased his tense body, looking away from her. "There's a lot I've been through, and I thought…" His throat tensed, trying to hold back the flood crashing in his mind. "I thought I've accepted that part of myself… apparently I haven't." Smiling soberly Royce walked away from Sarena, gathering her clothes for her, noticing the stirring of Isabella and Cass too.

"It's alright," assured Sarena, holding her clothes to her bosom. "It's must've been pretty bad for you to snap like that."

"One way of putting it," Royce mused aloud, nodding absently.

Licking her lips nervously, steadily making her way in front of the scion for the final time, Sarena leaned forward to kiss Royce; tenderly, richly, sweetly, full of passion and the subtle touch of understanding.

 **A/N: What's this?! A story that's not about DC, Marvel, or Star Wars?!**

 **What kind of MADNESS is this?!**

 **XD**

 **In all seriousness, I wanted to take a little break from my usual stuff, and what better than the best GTA game of all time?**

 **For a little bit of world-building context (there'll be some I won't say here because they'll be minor to major spoilers) but this story will follow the GTA 5 plot but will be majorly inspired by the novel Count of Mounte Cristo, the tv show Burn Notice, and the movie John Wick.**

 **Since it is majorly inspired by the Count of Mounte Cristo story, I would venture to guess that most if not all know this story, so this is pretty straight-forward overall. However, I did do some research into the new worth of the Count (for research and for fun lol) and discovered that the Count has a rough fortune of 6-9 billion dollars. You can see where this leads XD.**

 **Harem- Open to suggestions**


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